Words. I'm surrounding by thousands of words. Maybe millions...Deep within me, words pile up in huge drifts. Mountains of phrases and sentences and connected ideas. Clever expressions. Jokes. Love songs...I have never spoken one single word. I am almost eleven years old.

It can connect us to memories. It can influence our mood and our responses to problems we might face.

She talked to me like I was just like any other student, not a kid in a wheelchair.

Thoughts need words. Words need a voice.

I believe in me. And my family does. And Mrs. V. It's the rest of the world I'm not so sure of.

One series of notes, high and delicate, sang of a sweet moonlight kiss gone sour; another line of music rippled with regret over opportunities forever lost.

I learned to dream through reading, learned to create dreams through writing, and learned to develop dreamers through teaching. I shall always be a dreamer.